Crossing the Line
by TDWidow
Summary: In London, an old friend brings Buffy and the others news of a new threat. 5,000 miles away in Forks, Washington, a family worries over Alice's latest vision and wonders how to keep themselves safe from this new danger.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** In honor of _New Moon_ being released in theaters yesterday, I figured I'd start posting my new story – I just had to cross _Buffy_ and _Twilight._

**DISCLAIMER** I own nothing from _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ or _Twilight_.

She was wandering through a graveyard.

It wasn't unusual. After all, there was a reason that she had once described herself as "she who hangs out a lot in cemeteries." But this was not anywhere that she had been before. She frowned. Most cemeteries looked the same to her, but this one was different.

For one thing, it was old and neglected. Most graveyards that she saw were better tended to. A large silent brick building stood crumbling behind the sparse headstones. Her eyes fell on one hidden in the shadows and she walked slowly toward it.

The inscription was hard to read in the failing light, but her eyes had never had any trouble with the dark. "Mary Alice Brandon," it read," 1901 – 1920."

The instant that she saw the name the scenery around her changed. She was in a dense pin forest, near a large outcropping of rocks. A rough cross was deeply embedded in the ground by her feet. Carved into the wood was the name "Emmett McCarty."

Again, she found herself in a new place. A towering stone monument stood before her, topped by a bronze Confederate soldier. One name, Jasper Whitlock, stood out from the sea of names under the heading, "Missing In Action."

She groaned as the landscape changed again. A family mausoleum – now this was more what she was used to. She raised an appraising eyebrow. A very rich family mausoleum.

The door was open, so she walked slowly inside. Something to her right caught her attention. Unable to help herself, she ran her hand over the inscription – "Rosalie Lillian Hale 1915 – 1933."

This time, she was prepared for the spinning, changing locale, but it didn't aggravate her any less. She was in a small, fenced-in family plow. Just like before, she quickly found the grave she was looking for.

It was another woman, Esme Anne Platt Evenson. She was born in 1895, died in 1921. And once again, it all disappeared.

"Enough already," she muttered to herself.

The skyline of Chicago was barely visible over the bright lights of the hospital behind the small cemetery. She had always wondered what happened to patients who died without any family.

There was a whole section of headstones marked 1918. Three of them jumped out at her – Edward, Elizabeth, and Edward Anthony Masen.

The swirling scenery was beginning to make her nauseous. She heard the tolling of Big Ben before she could see where she was. For a minute, she thought she was awake.

Then she saw the vague outline of a church in the mist – somewhere that she was sure she had never seen before. There was a statue, but she couldn't quite see what it was. As she took a step toward it, she felt icy fingers warp around her arm.

Buffy sat up in bed with a sharp gasp. She looked around the room wildly for a minute, trying to figure out where she was. Then she took a deep breath and remembered that she was in a borrowed room in London.

She swung her legs out of bed and walked quietly to the bay window that looked out over the city. The house technically belonged to the Watcher's Council, but now that Giles was in charge, he could allocate the Council's resources as he saw fit.

He still hadn't told them why he had called them all to London. She suspected that Giles was secretly lonely without them. Whatever the reason, it was nice to have Willow, Xander, Dawn, and Faith all with her again.

Dawn, to her delight, had been given her own room. Willow and Xander shared another, leaving Buffy and Faith to share a third.

Once upon a time, that combination would have quickly ended in disaster. Now, the unique status of being the two _true_ Slayers had led to them becoming not only close allies, but real friends.

Faith was sprawled out across her double bed, apparently still asleep. Buffy figured that sitting by the window wouldn't bother the other woman, but a moment later, she heard, "You okay, B?"

She nodded and turned to look at Faith blinking blearily. "Yeah. Bad dream, that's all."

Faith was wide awake now. "Slayer dream?"

Buffy shrugged. "I got chauffeured around to seven different graves. Nothing really out of the ordinary, I guess."

With a wry laugh, Faith said, "How creep is it that dreaming about dead people is normal for us?"

"Yeah, right." Buffy turned back to the window. The sun was just below the horizon, the pre-dawn glow making the fog shimmer pale orange. She narrowed her eyes as something to the south caught her attention. Abruptly, she stood up. "I'll be back in a while."

"You want me to come with?"

Buffy looked at Faith and saw that there was concern there. She smiled, hoping that it was reassuring. "No, it's fine. Just want to take a walk. I'll be back before you get up."

Faith stretched and yawned. "Not likely. My body's all screwed up – it's got no idea what time zone it's in."

"Well I won't be long." Buffy let the door fall closed behind her and smirked when she heard Faith start snoring lightly almost immediately.

London was a quiet city before dawn. There was little vampire activity overall and the early morning calm was peaceful. Buffy turned south, going slowly and enjoying her walk.

The old churchyard was closer to the Council house than she had expected. Here in real life, the steeple was much easier to see, but it was clearly the one from her dream. The statue by the church's west side was also clearer.

Curiosity overtook her and she went for a closer look. The marble figure was of a handsome young man, dressed in the clothes of centuries ago. His eyes were determined and focused as they stared out at a sight long gone. At the base was carved an inscription: "To the Memory of a Beloved Son, Lost in the Name of Goodness and Fighting the Forces of Darkness, Carlisle Cullen 1640-1663."

The epitaph hit a nerve. Buffy peered closer at the details of the sculpture and saw a crucifix around the stone neck. There was also a small vial of liquid in one hand and a wooden stake in the other.

"Lost in the Name of Goodness and Fighting the Forces of Darkness."

This man had been a vampire hunter.


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** The chapters in this story alternate between viewpoints of _Buffy_ characters and _Twilight_ characters. This one's in Carlisle's point of view (though I think I screwed it up at one point and put it in Jacob's for a while). And while other characters call her "Nessie," I'm with Bella in that I can't stand that nickname, so in everything other than a few characters' dialogue, she'll be referred to as Renesmee.

**DISCLAIMER** I own nothing from _Buffy_ or _Twilight_.

The light from the windows of the Cullen house shone in bright patterns on the snow-covered lawn. Outside the house was still. Inside, the ten members of the Cullen family lounged around the living room.

While they all greatly appreciated the help that they had received in their latest conflict with the vampire royalty the Volturi, it was a wonderful relief to have just the family together again.

A child's beautiful high voice broke the silence. "Momma, I don't _want_ to go to bed!"

Bella Cullen merely scooped up her daughter and said, "Too bad. You need your rest."

Renesmee frowned. "But you and Daddy don't need your rest. Or Aunt Alice or Uncle Jasper or Uncle Emmett or – "

Bella shook her head firmly. "No arguments. Say goodnight."

Renesmee sighed and pouted for a minute, then scrambled out of her mother's arms and gave goodnight kisses to her grandparents, aunts, and uncles. Last, she jumped into the arms of the man standing closest to the door – the only one not pale and icy-skinned like the others.

"G'night Jake!" she chirped, kissing his check.

He grinned and ruffled her hair. "Night Nessie."

Bella took Renesmee back from Jacob and, followed by Edward, said goodnight to their family. Once they left, the seven others returned to the quiet evening.

It didn't take long for Emmett and Rosalie to make an obvious retreat to their room and Alice and Jasper soon after. Jacob was left alone with Carlisle and Esme Cullen, the impossibly young-looking parents of the vampire family. "Are you going back to the reservation for the night?" Carlisle asked.

Jacob shook his head. "I still don't feel right going back there. Not all of the Elders are as understanding as my dad."

Esme frowned, her beautiful eyes pained. "At least sleep in here on the couch," she said. "I hate the idea of you outside all night in the snow."

Grinning, Jacob brushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "My fur is pretty warm."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Carlisle murmured to his wife. Then, to Jacob, "But you always know that you're welcome inside." He took Esme's hand and the two of them headed for the stairs. "Goodnight, Jacob."

"Wait!"

They paused and turned around. Carlisle saw concern in Jacob's eyes. "Is everything okay?"

Jacob looked around the room, a shudder of energy rippling through his body. "I wanted to ask you about something one of the Volturi said."

Carlisle nodded slowly. "Go on."

"What do you know about the Children of the Moon?"

He sighed. That's what he had expected. He met Esme's eyes and nodded slightly. She looked at Jacob, bid him goodnight, then continued up to the second floor. Carlisle gestured for Jacob to sit down. "Before your first transformation," he said as he settled on the couch, "did you ever hear the term werewolf?"

Jacob knew that he should feel uncomfortable sitting alone with a vampire as old and powerful as Carlisle, but that time was long past. "No," he admitted. "Not anywhere other than in movies. None of the Quileute stories were any more specific than 'creature' or 'wolf.'"

"Your ancestors were very wise," Carlisle said. "You and the rest of your family are shape-shifters. True werewolves are actually quite similar to those in the black and white movies." He smiled slightly. "One of the few things Hollywood got right."

"So the Full Moon and only changing three nights a month and spreading it like a disease by biting other people and all that?" Jacob asked. "Those are true werewolves?"

The blonde vampire raised an eyebrow. "It sounds like you know a fair amount."

Jacob shifted uncomfortably in his chair, made even more awkward by his large size. "There's something that I kept from you," he admitted. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't think you guys needed anymore to deal with, but things are changing." He sighed. "Again."

Carlisle said nothing. He merely waited for Jacob to continue, his knitted brow the only sign that he was even slightly concerned.

"A few years ago, when I was maybe ten or eleven, this guy showed up at La Push," Jacob began. "It was before you came back to Forks. He came to my father and asked to meet with the Elders." He blushed slightly. "I wasn't supposed to listen to any Tribal meetings. Billy wanted me to wait until I was older before I got involved in any of that.

"But I felt really strange the entire time he was there. I tried to find Billy and I overheard him talking to this guy Oz without any of the other Elders around."

"He was keeping secrets from the other Elders?"

Jacob shrugged. "Maybe. The two of them were talking about stuff that sounded really odd at the time. Oz was saying that the change had nothing to do with the moon anymore. Now it was happening when he was angry. He seemed to think that my father had answers for him."

Carlisle had been a smart man during his human life and over three hundred years of learning since then had made him brilliant. He knew where Jacob's story was going. "You and your pack transform when you're angry or feel threatened, yes?"

"Yeah. When we get better at it, we can phase whenever we want." His voice dropped to just above a whisper. "But we've never been affected by the moon. And Oz was definitely not Quileute."

Carlisle narrowed his eyes. "A werewolf."

Jacob nodded. "A real werewolf."

Carlisle frowned and stared at a spot on the wall. "The Volturi will not stand for a Child of the Moon being allowed to live."

More than anything, Jacob wished that the floor would open up and swallow him. "I think my father is still in contact with this guy," he finally said. "And I think that he might have been really honest about what's been going on here over the past year."

Carlisle looked at him sharply. "You think he's coming here?"

The words came out in a rush. "You know that the Quileutes outside of the pack still don't trust you. Billy and I have argued over this over and over again. That's why I've been staying here at night. I'm so sorry, Carlisle. You know I'd rather die than put this family in danger again."

To his surprise, Carlisle kept calm. "If he does come back, we will deal with it." His amber eyes softened when he saw how distraught Jacob was. "Don't worry. I'm sure that this will turn out to be nothing." He stood up. "Are you sure you won't sleep inside tonight? I know it would make Esme feel better."

Jacob shook his head. "I like being outside. Besides," he added, blushing. "It's quieter outside."

Carlisle smirked. Spending the night in a house with three happily married couples who didn't sleep was probably a less than ideal scenario. Especially when one had supernatural hearing. "Sleep well," he said with a smile.

Jacob seemed comforted enough and headed out the front door, pulling his shirt off as he went. Moments later, Carlisle saw a giant russet-colored wolf bound across the lawn and curl up under a pine tree.

Carlisle leaned against the window, the cold glass feeling warm against his icy skin. Against centuries of instinct, he had come to see Jacob as a member of his family. Not a son, per se, but definitely a part of them. He didn't want the boy to feel worse than he clearly already felt.

But the truth was, what Jacob had told him _did_ worry him. The last thing any of them needed was another reason for the Volturi to come after them. He turned and looked up the stairs to where he knew his wife was waiting for him.

Could they survive a fifth attack on their family?


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Merry Christmas everyone!

**DISCLAIMER** I own nothing from either _Buffy_ or _Twilight_.

The sun rose over London, breaking through the morning mist. Buffy had settled herself in the grass in front of the statue, hardly even feeling the cold. She could not tear her eyes away from it for a long time.

There was something in the man's stone eyes that made her sad. It was like he was determined to succeed in his mission no matter what the cost, because that was the only thing that he could control. She knew the feeling.

The others would be wondering where she was. Buffy knew that Faith wouldn't worry about her, but she was unlikely to be awake any time soon. Giles and Dawn especially would hate not knowing where she was.

Regretfully, she climbed to her feet and brushed the dirt off of her pants. She took one last look at the marble sculpture and smiled slightly. She had a sudden urge to reach out and touch the stone had, but resisted.

It was hard to put the statue's image out of her mind as she walked back to the house. That was not unusual – Slayer dreams by nature stuck with her long after she was awake. Seeing part of the dream in real life was only cementing the images in her memory.

She had expected Giles and maybe Willow to be up when she got back, but through the window, she could see a flurry of activity. She quickened her pace. Something could be wrong.

Faith met her at the front door. "Oh good, you're back," she said.

Buffy followed her through the foyer. "What's going on?"

"We have a visitor."

They entered the living room and Buffy stopped short. "Oz?" she said.

Oz, looked incredibly uncomfortable on the couch, accepted a mug of coffee from Dawn and nodded. "Hey."

Buffy glanced around the room quickly. Dawn had perched on the arm of the couch, watching Oz curiously. Xander was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, giving Oz a fearsome one-eyed glare. Giles was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, cleaning his glasses. Willow was not there.

Warily, Buffy went into the room and sat in an armchair. Faith stood a step behind her. The dynamic in the room was obvious. She was the one to talk to, with Faith her second in command.

How had it come to this? Oz used to be a friend. And really, the last time he had left Sunnydale, it had been because Willow had rejected him, not the other way around. Buffy forced a small smile. "How have you been?"

"Not too bad."

He did not offer any more. She suppressed a sigh, for once irritated at his stoicism. "That's good to hear. So you're living in England now?"

He glanced at Giles. "Actually I came to talk to the Council. I didn't know the whole gang was here."

She straightened in her chair. "So this is business."

"Yeah." He glanced at Xander, whose looked hadn't softened, and grimaced. "Do you remember when I came back to Sunnydale?"

Buffy could feel Xander bristle. His protectiveness of Willow knew no bounds. She kept her eyes on Oz. "I remember. You nearly killed Tara."

As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Pain flashed in Dawn's eyes and even Xander's glare faltered. A lump formed in her own throat as she thought of the day Tara had been killed – the day that she had nearly died for the third time. But she kept her voice firm and continued. "You lost control of the wolf."

Oz nodded. "I wasn't changing because of the moon anymore, but I was still changing. Emotional stuff set me off. After I left again, I read an Indian legend about people who changed into wolves when their village was threatened."

Giles perked up a little. "I've read about them. They live in the Pacific Northwest, yes? The Quileute."

Oz nodded. "That's them. I went up to Washington to see if there was any truth to the legend."

"Was there?" asked Dawn.

He shrugged. "Most of them didn't want to talk about it at all. But there was this one guy who listened to me. he told me that the legend has two parts. They turn into wolves to protect their people, but only when there are vampires around."

"Vampires?" Faith repeated.

He nodded. "The Quileute aren't really werewolves. The reason they turn into wolves is to protect people from vampires."

"As if the Slayer wasn't enough," Buffy grumbled.

Oz gave her a small smile. "The Slayer can't be everywhere."

"You haven't been around lately," Xander said.

"I've been in contact with this guy on and off since then and – "

"Let me guess," Buffy interrupted. "Suddenly wolves are springing up all over the place."

"Bingo." Oz's face was blank, but his voice was strained. "Billy's really worried. His son is a wolf."

Giles put his glasses on and crossed his arms. "Oz, we appreciate you bringing us the news."

Oz frowned. "Look, I know that I have no right to ask for any favors from you guys, but Billy turned out to be the only person there for me through all that stuff. The least I could do was try to help him help out his son."

"Maybe so," Giles said. "But the Slayer is far too busy to go investigate every – "

"I think we should go."

Buffy spun around and craned her neck to see over the back of her chair. Willow was standing hesitantly in the doorway. "Hi Oz," she said softly.

He met her eyes and stood up. "Hey."

The two of them stood there for a minute, their eyes locked together. Then Willow looked around at the others. "After all, that's what we do, right?" There are enough Slayers to protect London and Cleveland and everywhere else for a while."

Oz cocked his head. "Enough Slayers?"

The others ignored him. Willow added. "If this place has vampires, I say we go."

She looked at Buffy, who then looked at Giles and nodded. "I guess we'll go," she said.

Oz smiled. "Thank you."

The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted from interrogating to strategizing. "When should we leave?" Xander asked.

"As soon as possible," Oz replied. "I haven't heard from Billy in a few weeks, but last time he sounded really worried. More so than before."

"Someone should stay here to keep an eye on things," Giles said.

Dawn raised her hand. "I'll stay."

Buffy looked at her and frowned. "Really?"

The younger girl nodded. "Washington equals no sun and no yummy British accents. No way."

Buffy shrugged. "Okay." She turned to Oz. "Where exactly are we going?"

"The Quileute reservation is called La Push," he said. "It's right by a tiny town called Forks. If you fly into Port Angeles, I can give you decent directions."

Disappointment crossed Willow's face. "You're not coming with us?" she asked.

The room fell into awkward silence. After a minute, Oz said, "I didn't think you'd want me to."

Willow blushed slightly. "I just thought you'd want to help. They're your friends, after all."

"I do." He glanced around at the others, then added, "I'll come.'

"How quickly can you all pack?" Giles asked. "The Council can have us on a flight this afternoon."

The house erupted in a flurry of activity. Though most of them had not unpacked from their journey to London, there were people to be notified and arrangements to be made with the Council. Dawn had to convince them all several times that she would be fine on her own in London. She was, as she so nicely pointed out, twenty years old.

Buffy found Willow alone in her room. "Hey," she said, knocking on the doorframe.

Willow looked up. "Oh, hey Buffy. Where were you this morning?"

The statue that she had forgotten about in the face of the sudden situation flared in her memory, but for the moment she felt a desperate need to keep it her secret. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Because I know you've been sort of out of it since Kennedy ran off with that priestess and then all of a sudden Oz is here."

Willow looked at her sharply. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"Well he was – "

"I'm not interested in him anymore," Willow cut her off. "Or any men."

Gingerly, Buffy sat on the edge of the bed. "You've never actually said that before."

"Well I'm saying it now."

Her tone stung. Buffy stood up again. "Sorry I interrupted you." She didn't give Willow a chance to continue, heading in her and Faith's room. She hated fighting with Willow, but the whole day had felt off somehow. Strangely, this impromptu trip to Forks, Washington felt like it fit right in. That seemed to bode even worse.


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Happy 2010, everyone!

**DISCLAIMER** I own nothing from _Buffy_ or _Twilight_.

Alice leaned against Jasper, watching the sky outside get lighter and lighter. It was almost morning.

Unless it was an absolute emergency, she never bothered any of her family at night. Most often, she and Jasper were just as preoccupied as the rest of them. She hated those rare occasions that her gift interrupted them, but the visions couldn't really be avoided.

She curled up against his side. "Everyone should be around soon."

Jasper gazed at the walls of their room, sensing the emotions in the house like a snake tasting the air, and shook his head. "Not yet," he murmured, kissing her temple. "There's still a whole lot of energy pouring out of Rose and Emmett's room."

Alice laughed. "When is there not?"

He tightened his arm around her bare shoulders. "They'll all be downstairs in a while. You sure you don't want to tell me about the vision? It might make you feel better."

She shook her head. What she had seen less than an hour ago was still too confusing. She needed more time to figure out how to put it into words.

Nipping playfully at her neck, Jasper whispered, "Okay." A warm, happy feeling flooded their room.

She smiled up at him. "You know I don't need that when I'm with you, no matter what my visions are. I'm always happy."

Another hour went by before the family was all downstairs and twenty minutes more before Edward and Bella brought Renesmee from the cottage they had back in the woods.

Mornings were interesting for the Cullens. Edward, Bella, and Alice had all officially graduated from Forks High School, so there was no hurry to rush off anywhere. None but Renesmee ever slept, so there was no bleary time spent trying to get going for the day. There wasn't even breakfast to prepare. Normally the conversation picked up just where it had left off the night before.

Alice gripped Jasper's hand, trying to find the words to interrupt Carlisle and Emmett's debate about exotic hunting trips. A moment went by and she didn't have to.

Edward suddenly looked at her. "What was that you saw?" he asked.

The talking ceased. All of her family's eyes were on her. There were times when her favorite brother's special talent was really irritating. "I'm not sure," she admitted, shooting Edward a glare.

She turned to Carlisle. "There's a group of people coming. Three of them. Or…more. I'm not sure."

"You can't see them clearly?" Carlisle asked.

She shook her head. "There are three humans. Then there's this muddy, cloudy feeling around some more." She glanced at Renesmee. "It's not like Nessie or the wolves where I can't see anything. I know there are more there; I just can't tell anything else."

The resulting silence was not surprising – Alice hardly ever had trouble interpreting her visions. Nor had she ever seen anything before like what she was describing.

Bella clutched Renesmee. "Who are they? Is it bad?"

"Momma, not so tight!" Renesmee complained. Bella loosened her grip, but just slightly.

"I don't know," Alice said.

She looked at Carlisle, hoping that he would add his thoughts, but he was staring intently out the huge window. Edward frowned. "Carlisle, why do you need to talk to Jacob so badly?"

Suddenly his eyes narrowed and a low growl escaped his throat. "No!"

Esme looked between her husband and her son nervously. "What?"

"Carlisle, you can't let him come here!" Edward cried.

Jasper looked down at Alice, who shrugged. He quickly crossed the room and put a hand on Edward's shoulder. "Calm down, brother," he said softly.

"Edward," Bella asked. "What's going on?"

Edward kept staring at his father. Reluctantly, he finally said, "A werewolf."

Esme grinned. "Oh, is that all? Why'd you scare us like that? Jacob must have been afraid that we wouldn't be as welcoming of others."

"Not like Jacob," Carlisle interrupted quietly.

Emmet and Jasper looked at him, horrified. "Carlisle, no!" Jasper said.

Rosalie looked at Esme, confused, while Bella glanced at Edward the same. The room then disappeared into another vision.

It was the same vision as before, only this time it was clear that there were three others behind the murky haze. One was the werewolf that Carlisle was talking about. The other two were different.

She came out of the vision just in time to hear Emmett say, "You can't just sit back and let a Child of the Moon waltz into our town!"

"A Child of the Moon?" Esme whispered. "That's who's on their way?"

Carlisle nodded gravely. "And apparently – " He looked at Alice. " – he's not alone."

"The Volturi will never forgive us for this," Edward said.

Bella growled in frustration. "I am sick and tired of the Volturi screwing with our lives."

"Yeah, well, we sort of invite it," Rosalie muttered.

Edward glared at her. "What is that supposed to mean, Rose?"

"There are six!" Alice interrupted, hoping to ward off the fight between her brother and sister. It worked – the room went quiet. "There are six of them. Three humans, the werewolf, and two others that I still can't see."

Jasper was back at her side, his arm around her waist. "When will they arrive?" he asked.

"Tonight," she said reluctantly. "They'll be in Forks by tonight."

They all sat in silence for a moment. Finally, Carlisle said, "Right now, I say we wait."

Emmett, Jasper, and Edward began shouting angrily, while Renesmee clapped her hands over her ears. Carlisle tried to argue his point, but his voice was drowned out. Rosalie quickly joined in alongside Emmett and Bella was trying to calm her daughter.

Esme glanced at Alice, then took a deep breath and shouted, "Boys!"

The arguing abruptly stopped, since Esme hardly ever raised her voice. She took Carlisle's hand and looked at the rest of them. "We don't know anything right now, except that a true werewolf is on his way to Forks. Alice didn't see him coming to us. If we wait to see what happens, maybe he won't even come near us. The Volturi will never be involved."

Edward wrapped her arms around Bella and Renesmee and glared at his parents. "This is a huge risk. I won't let Bella and Nessie be in danger again."

Carlisle nodded. "If it comes to it, I will face the Volturi. I will not put the rest of you in danger again. We'll resettle somewhere else after it's done."

"I won't leave you," Esme said quietly.

"I won't either, Carlisle," Bella said.

"None of us are leaving anyone," Jasper said firmly. "We have fought off newborns and faced down the Volturi's lynch mob and we've done it as a family. If a true werewolf shows up at our front door and makes trouble for us, we'll kill him. Simple." He cracked a smile. "The Volturi may even reward us."

Emmet looked excited by that plan. So, surprisingly, did Bella. Esme looked gratefully at Jasper, then said, "I think a hunting day might be a good idea. It's been a while."

No one really argued. Rosalie was the only one who seemed irritated by the suggestion and that was mostly due to the fact that she had to change into more appropriate clothing.

Bella materialized at Alice's side. "If Nessie's in danger," she began quietly.

Alice took her sister's hand in hers. "I'll tell you." She felt the burning in the back of her throat as she looked at Bella's nearly-black eyes. "Esme's right. If we're going to face anyone for any reason tonight, we have to be strong." Venom began to flow in her mouth. "Let's go out for breakfast."


	5. Chapter 5

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Sorry for the delay! This chapter's a little longer – hope you enjoy!

**DISCLAIMER** I own nothing canon from _Twilight_ or _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_.

Buffy stared out the tiny airplane window. They had flown from Heathrow to New York and switched planes, now headed nonstop for Seattle. From there, they'd finally head for Port Angeles. They were headed backward through time zones, so the sun was only just falling toward the horizon.

The flight was nowhere near full, so Willow, Xander and Oz had found empty rows where they could stretch out and go to sleep. Giles refused to lie down, but he had fallen asleep sitting up in his chair.

Faith flopped down in the seat next to Buffy. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Not tired?"

"Nope." Buffy had spent the first half of most nights since she was fifteen out patrolling streets and cemeteries. Whether it was part of her Slayer-ness or just her, she didn't sleep much anymore. "You?"

Faith shook her head. "Slayers don't really need sleep, right?"

Buffy shrugged, staring at the rosy clouds outside. "Guess not."

"What's go you all stoic?"

With faith, an honest answer never seemed to faze her. Buffy looked at her. "Being dead."

Panic, then worry flashed across the other Slayer's face. "Way to keep it light, B. What brought that on?"

She was torn between wanting desperately to talk about it and still wanting to keep it secret. After a minute, she said, "Remember that dream I told you about?"

"The one with the seven different graves?"

Buffy nodded. "The last one wasn't exactly a grave. It was a churchyard with this statue. Then when I woke up, I could see the same church out the window."

"That's where you disappeared to this morning?" Faith asked.

"Yep." She turned back to see the sun finally set. "The statue was a memorial to this guy named Carlisle Cullen who died way back in the 1600s. He was a vampire hunter."

"Oh." Faith watched her carefully for a minute. "And so why does this have you thinking about being dead?"

"He died doing what he believed was right." Buffy's voice was wistful. "He found peace. I miss that."

If she had said that to Xander or Giles or Dawn, their eyes would have filled with tears as they reminded her of all the things that she had to live for. But Faith just leaned back in her chair and said, "I do, too."

Buffy turned to frown at her. "Huh?"

Faith sighed. "You have no idea how much easier it was to be evil. To not have to worry about consequences or a conscience."

Out of unspoken courtesy, they never talked about Faith's dark period. Buffy just stared at her as she added, "It was total escape."

"Sometimes, that sounds good," Buffy admitted softly.

Faith grinned dryly. "You, well, prison? Not as much fun as you'd think. There were times in there that I wished I was dead."

"Wow," Buffy said. "Listen to us. Good thing the girls can't hear us. We'd never get them to listen to us again."

"You think there will ever be a day when we can just retire?" Faith asked.

Buffy stared out the window once more. "You mean when the other Slayers are enough to protect the world without us? I hope so."

She managed to fall asleep on the last flight from Seattle to Port Angeles and the next thing she knew, they had landed. Stretching, she grabbed her bags and followed the others into the terminal. "You know Giles," she said. "The Council ought to look into getting its own jet. Doesn't hurt to travel in style every once and a while."

"Yes, well, as soon as you can afford the jet fuel," he said tiredly, "let me know."

She smirked and tried to catch Willow's eye to share the joke, but her best friend was paying her no attention. Instead, Willow seemed awfully preoccupied with following Oz to the baggage claim. Buffy raised an eyebrow. Interesting.

Giles had arranged for two cars, one rented in his name and the other in Oz's. As they started to divide their luggage between the two, tension started to spring up around them. Xander immediately threw his suitcase in the trunk of Giles's car. Faith glanced at Buffy and shrugged, then climbed into the backseat of Oz's SUV.

Buffy glanced at Willow, who looked torn. She figured that she would make it easier, so she said, "Faith, I guess I'll ride with you guys." As she climbed into the car, she missed the angry look that Willow shot her.

It was a long, uneventful ride from Port Angeles to Forks. Faith fell asleep in the back, leaving Buffy and Oz to sit in silence as the suburbs faded into towering, dark pine forests.

"Thanks," Oz said after awhile.

She looked at him. "For what?"

"For coming all the way here. I know one cluster of vampires is probably no big deal."

Buffy shrugged. "Don't mention it. Besides, sometimes one bad cluster of vamps is all it takes. You know that."

He nodded. "What did Willow mean about enough Slayers?"

"It's a long story," she said, uncomfortable with any topic that included Willow.

"Short version."

Buffy sighed. "Short version – there was a battle too big for me to face, Will pulled off an überpowerful spell, and every single girl in the world who might have ever been called as a Slayer was made one. Now there are hundreds of us. Maybe thousands, we're not sure."

"Wow," Oz said. Then, so quietly that he obviously didn't intend for Buffy to hear, she added, "That's my girl."

Inwardly, she groaned. Perfect. He was still in love with Willow.

Forks was even smaller than Sunnydale had been. They checked into their two rooms at one of the town's few motels and tried to settle in for the night.

Buffy, Willow, and Faith had two beds and a couch between them. Faith was already asleep again, fully clothed, on the first bed.

"You can have the other one," Buffy said.

Willow glanced at her, slightly suspicious of the peace offering. The two of them hadn't really spoken to each other since that morning. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Buffy pulled her jacket back on. "I'm going on a quick patrol, you know, try to get the lay of the land."

Giving her a small smile, Willow said, "Okay. Be careful."

"You know me."

She slipped out the door into the cold night air. There was a white sliver of a moon high in the sky and the snow on the ground glowed in the faint light. She pulled her jacket tighter around her and headed down the silent road.

There was definitely some kind of presence in Forks setting off her Slayer sense, but it seemed awfully faint for a place supposedly overrun with vampires. Maybe if she could track down the nest tonight, they could spend the rest of their time in Washington as a vacation.

Following the feeling that tugged at the back of her mind, Buffy hardly noticed that she was heading farther and farther out of town. She only saw one car go past and the driver paid no attention to a girl walking alone on the forest road.

The driveway she found was almost hidden. It would for a long time through the dark woods and finally ended at a house. She whistled. It was a _nice_ house.

There were definitely vampires in there – that much she was sure of – but it was not a place she had expected to find them. She slid her stake out of her shirt sleeve and crept toward the front door. Either this was a nest of vamps with impeccable architectural taste or whoever really lived in this house was in danger.

The door opened easily. There were no signs of life. Buffy moved silently through the front room, around the side toward the back of the house.

A young blond man stood calmly in front of the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. He smiled slightly when she came to face him. "You're not who I expected."

His voice was like music and he was impossibly beautiful. At first she thought he looked familiar, but she saw his pale white skin and yellow eyes and gripped her stake firmly. "So who were you expecting?"

"It doesn't matter." He looked thoughtfully at the stake in her hand. "I'm not sure you know what you're doing."

She could sense several other vampires in the house, but for the moment, she kept her focus on the one in front of her. "You should talk. Killing a family who lives in a house with huge windows all over the place? I've never met a suicidal vampire before."

That was a lie. In fact, she had known two suicidal vampires once upon a time, but that was a long time ago and she tried to think about either of them.

To her irritation, the gorgeous vampire chuckled. "You have been watching too many movies, my dear."

He was making her angry. She took another step toward him, stake raised. "I'm too tired for small talk."

He tensed and crouched defensively, but another voice stopped her dead in her tracks before she even got near him. "Buffy, don't."

She turned to where he appeared out of the shadows, her mouth slightly open in shock. "Angel?"


	6. Chapter 6

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Sorry for the delay! This chapter's a little shorter, mostly because of the alternating POVs, but the next one will be longer, promise.

**DISCLAIMER** I own nothing canon from _Twilight_ or _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_.

Bella glanced at Edward, then back at the others poised at the top of the stairs. None of them had any trouble hearing the exchange going on in their living room.

It was clear in their expressions that they were worried by the fact that this intruder knew they were vampires. When a second strange voice spoke up, Bella growled softly. She flew down the steps and into the living room, sensing that the rest of her family had followed.

Carlisle was standing against the windows, his body more relaxed than she thought he should be but wary. A petite blonde girl brandishing a stake stood in the doorway, while a tall vampire in a long black coat stood between them.

Esme went to Carlisle's side and bared her teeth at the intruders. "Who are you?" she asked.

The girl looked at each one of them in turn, then back at the other vampire. "Angel, what's going on?"

Angel turned around to look apologetically at Carlisle. "I'm sorry we disturbed you."

Carlisle seemed confused by the gesture, but Bella was more focused on how dark Angel's eyes were. He was thirsty. No matter that he wasn't a Cullen – if he killed the blonde girl or anyone else in Forks, the Quileute treaty would be broken. And if Billy Black's recent actions were any indication, he would have no sympathy for them.

Beside her, Edward and Jasper were frowning. The family had formed a semi-circle around the room, with Angel and the girl in the middle. Bella was still learning her new senses, but there was something strange about this girl.

"Buffy," Angel said softly. "Let's go."

_Buffy_? There was definitely something strange about her.

She was eyeing Angel suspiciously. Finally she nodded quickly and said, "Fine." Then she glanced at the rest of them and said, "Don't think I won't be back."

"We're so scared," Rosalie muttered.

Buffy started to take a step toward her, her stake raised. They tensed, ready to strike, and Emmett growled loudly, but Angel caught Buffy's arm and shook his head.

Again he turned to Carlisle. "We won't bother you again," he said. "I'm so sorry."

Then they were gone. Each of the Cullens looked at Carlisle questioningly. He took a deep breath and sighed, then sat in a nearby armchair.

The rest of them were not quick to follow. "Who was that?" Edward asked, a hard edge in his voice.

"What the hell is going on?" Emmett added. He turned to Alice. "I thought you said the werewolf was coming?"

Bella looked at her sister, who shrugged. "He was. Or, he did. He's here in Forks. That girl is one of the people who came with him."

"You saw her?" Carlisle asked.

Alice shook her head. "I can't really see her. She's one of those two others."

"I knew there was something screwed up about her," Emmett said, keeping one arm firmly around Rosalie's waist. His voice was still bitter.

Esme folded herself into the small chair with Carlisle, her amber eyes worried. "She came here after us," she said.

Carlisle nodded. "With a wooden stake, like in the old fairy tales."

"And she made that crack about the windows," Bella added.

"Whoever she is, she clearly has no idea what she's dealing with," Jasper said. He frowned. "But she's immune to me. I kept trying to calm her down, but nothing."

"I can't read her either," Edward admitted.

Bella frowned. "You think she's a shield like me?"

"She's not like you," Carlisle said. "You aren't immune to Jasper and Alice." He looked concerned. "I'm afraid that this girl might be something else all together."

"Should we be worried?" Rosalie asked, although they all knew the answer.

Panic flared up in Bella's chest and she suddenly gripped Edward's hand. "What if she comes after Renesmee?" Venom was flowing in her mouth. "I swear I'll kill her!"

A warm calm blanket fell over her and she looked irritably at Jasper. He offered her a small smile in return.

"Nessie will be safe with Jacob at the cottage," Carlisle assured her. "He can protect her. Besides, if this girl is travelling with a werewolf, I think we can guess on which side her allegiances lie." He looked apologetic. "But you two should probably stay here. No reason to lead our visitor anywhere near them."

Any plan that kept her away from her child was not a plan that she was a fan of. However, any plan that led the whacked-out blonde girl to her daughter was worse. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Fine."

Edward wrapped his arms around her. "You know Jake would die for her if he had to."

She glared at him. "That doesn't really make me feel better."

His perfect face was pained. "For now, this is the best way to keep her safe."

The rapidly-fading part of her that remembered how to be human wanted to cry, but she couldn't. Instead she leaned her head sadly against Edward's chest. "I know."

"I'll call Jacob at the Cottage," Carlisle said softly. "He needs to know what's going on."

Esme came to Bella's side. "Don't worry," she said softly. "This will all blow over soon. You'll see."

Bella attempted a smile. She looked at the faces of her brothers and sisters and then back at her husband. Every one of them knew that Esme was lying.


	7. Chapter 7

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** The Angel/Cordelia relationship always bothered me and I always figured that it would especially bother Buffy.

**DISCLAIMER** I own nothing canon from _Buffy_ or _Twilight_.

Buffy stalked angrily down the empty road. Behind her, Angel said, "Buffy, wait."

She did not turn around. "I'm not talking to you," she replied.

He must have sped up, since seconds later she felt his cool hand catch her wrist. She rolled her eyes and turned to face him. "What?"

"Are you going to let me explain?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Wasn't planning on it."

He glared at her. "Don't be like this."

"Like what?" she shot back. "We came here to slay vampires, Angel. That's my job, in case you forgot." Her voice got louder as her anger grew. "And where do you get off telling me anything? I haven't heard anything from you in four years! I had no idea if you were even still alive!"

She turned away so that he couldn't see that she was holding back tears. "You have no right to tell me what to do."

"I tried to help you," he said. "I thought you needed me, but you were fine without me!"

She set her jaw firmly, but she said quietly, "I'm never fine without you." Then her voice got hard again. "Besides, you had Cordelia to run home to." Spinning around to glare at him, she added, "_Cordelia_ of all people? Angel, how could you do that to me?"

He looked upset. "You weren't exactly alone, you know. Or did you forget that you threw me over for Spike?" He looked her in the eye. "Anyway, Cordelia's dead."

Buffy was surprised and saddened at that, but she was determined not to let it show. "Yeah, well, Spike's dead too."

"I wish," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing." He dropped her arm. The two of them stood still in the cold January air in silence for a minute. Then Angel said quietly, "They're good."

She eyed him suspiciously. "What do you mean, good?"

"I mean that they don't kill humans," he said patiently.

That was unexpected. What the hell were they doing there if the vampires she had come to kill weren't dangerous?

Over her long years as the Slayer, she had seen enough weird things that it took a lot to chock her. Good vampires, especially for her, were no stretch of the imagination.

She was still mad at Angel, though, and not quite ready to concede. "How do you know?"

"I've been watching them for awhile," he admitted. "They only eat animals."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she asked, "They have souls, then?"

He shook his head. Then he paused and thought about it. "Maybe. I'm not sure. They're different than us."

That was concerning. "Different how?"

"They can go out in sunlight, for one thing. They don't, because it makes their skin look strange, but it doesn't hurt them at all. And they're fully involved in the community. Carlisle's even a doctor."

Buffy looked at him sharply. "Who?"

"Carlisle – the one I stopped you from attacking. He's a doctor – a surgeon." Angel shuddered. "I've never met a vampire with that much self-control."

She was no longer listening. Slightly dazed, she started walking again.

"Buffy?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"I have to get back," she said vaguely. Then she came to her sense and said, "You can come back to the hotel if you want. Then you can explain all this to the others in the morning."

There was no argument. They were silent on the long walk back to Forks. When they got back to the room, Buffy collapsed on her couch while Angel hovered in the doorway.

He glanced at where Willow and Faith were sound asleep. "You don't think they'll mind?"

She shook her head. "It's not like you're a stranger."

After that, they didn't talk. She tried to sleep, but it seemed like every time she got close, an icy hand grabbed her arm and jolted her awake again. A couple of times, she opened her eyes to see if Angel was responsible, but he was asleep sitting in the room's single armchair.

Dawn finally broke and gray light leaked in around the sides of the window blinds. Buffy closed herself in the bathroom to brush her teeth without disturbing the others, emerging a minute later to find Willow awake, watching Angel suspiciously. "Morning," she said.

Willow glanced at her. "Hey." Then to Angel she said, "What are you doing here?"

Before he could answer, Buffy said, "It's a long story."

Faith sat up and blearily rubbed her eyes. She looked at the other three and grinned. "Hey big guy! When'd you crash the party?"

"I ran into him last night." Buffy frowned. "Do you think the others are awake? We really need to talk to you."

Faith must have noticed the Serious Slayer tone in her voice, for she immediately stood up and opened the door. "I'll go see."

"Tell them to come here," Buffy said. "Angel knows more about this than I do and it's daylight."

She nodded and left. "It doesn't matter," Angel said. "It's cloudy. The sun almost never comes out here."

Willow frowned. "Never?"

He shook his head. "Why do you think the Cullens live here?"

The Cullens. The last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Buffy vaguely heard Willow asking Angel who he was talking about, but she was suddenly immersed once again in her dream. Carlisle Cullen, the vampire hunter immortalized in the statue not far from the Council's house in London, was the head of the vampire clan she had come to destroy.

The door opened again and in walked Faith with three sleepy men behind her. Giles was still in his bathrobe. He caught sight of Angel and frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"What's going on?" Xander asked.

They all looked to Buffy, but she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to explain anything. Luckily, Angel stepped in. "There's no danger here," he said.

Oz angrily started arguing and soon there was yelling coming from all around her. She could have stopped it at any time – she _should _have stopped it – but she didn't. Instead, amidst the chaos, she slipped out the door and ran for the road.

It was cold and the vampire house was far, but she was the Slayer. She was built for this sort of thing. Faith and Angel were the only two who could possibly catch up with her, but she was pretty sure neither of them would try. They probably hadn't even noticed she was gone.

When she reached the long, winding driveway, she slowed to a walk. She took long, deep breaths of the cold air and noticed for the first time that Angel was right – the sun was nowhere to be found. The sky was a sheet of uniform gray.

She decided that this time, she would knock on the door instead of barging in. After a minute, the blond vampire opened the door. "You again?" he asked. It did not come out rude; rather he sounded surprised.

Nervously, she nodded. "Me again. Can I come in?"

Another vampire had appeared behind him. He looked young, with bronze-colored hair. A low growl escaped his throat and he curled his lips back in a snarl. "What do you want?"

"Edward, please." The blond one – Buffy was more sure than ever that it was Carlisle Cullen – turned back to her. "We were not expecting a visit like this. Your motives are very difficult for us to discern." He stepped aside. "Please come in."

Edward glared at him. "What?"

The two stared at each other for a minute, then finally Edward backed down. She could tell that there was something going on, but for the moment she ignored it. Cautiously she followed Carlisle and Edward into the house.

They led her to the living room. Carlisle sat calmly in one of the chairs while Edward stood glowering against the window.

She sat gingerly on the couch. "I'm sorry about last night. Angel told me – " She stopped. How much did they already know about Angel? "I didn't know that you didn't…" How was the best way to phrase it?

Carlisle nodded. "I understand. Most people who are aware of vampires assume the worse. More often than not, they are right." He furrowed his brow thoughtfully. "Forgive me for being blunt, but who are you?"

Her face burned. "I'm Buffy Summers."

"Ah." He smiled politely. "I'm – "

"Carlisle Cullen," she said. She turned to the younger one. "And you're Edward Anthony Masen."

"I'm Edward Cullen," he replied. "Edward Anthony Masen died of Spanish Flu."

Carlisle no longer sounded as thoughtful. "You seem to know an awful lot about us, Buffy Summers."

"Two nights ago, I had a dream. I saw five different graves, a Civil War memorial, and a churchyard. I woke up and saw that same churchyard out my window in London, so I went to check it out." She looked closer at him. "Now I can't believe I didn't recognize you last night – you look just like your statue."

Edward smirked. "Statue?"

"My father was quite devastated by my death," Carlisle said evenly.

It was a strange relief that he did not deny it. "So you're, like, three hundred and forty years old."

"Three hundred and forty-four," he replied, a small smile on his lips.

He was older than Angel, she thought. "You were a vampire hunter," she continued. She looked at Edward. "And you were dying with your family in the flu epidemic."

Carlisle nodded. "Very observant. What else was in this dream of yours?"

She tried to remember all of the names. "The Civil War soldier was named Whitlock. He was listed as missing. The three women were all buried in cemeteries and the other one, Emmett, was just a marker in the woods."

Edward seemed slightly less hostile. "Are you a seer?" he asked.

"Only when it comes to Slayer stuff."

He frowned. "When it comes to what?"

She looked between the two blank faces. "I'm the Slayer," she said. "I figured you'd have guessed that by now."

Edward suddenly turned toward the door. "They're coming back," he said. Then he turned back to Buffy. "You should go."

Carlisle stood up. "I agree. But we do appreciate your visit and the apology. I think we all have quite a lot to think about."

They ushered her quickly and firmly out of the house. She walked slowly back toward town, not wanting to see her friends in the face of endlessly more questions.


End file.
